Ghostly Theories
by The Rose Blue Prince
Summary: [Complete] A grouping of 10 random Danny Phantom One-Shots. #10: Since when did I turn into a cat? Oh man, Vlad is gonna pay for this one...
1. 1: Seemingly Normal

**A/N: **Hey guys, I'm back, and so is (finally) my inspiration! I can't believe how terrible writer's block can be, but, thankfully, I'm out of that rut, so 'yay'. And, if all else fails, try something new, like, say, a type of narration you've never tried before...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or any other related characters.

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**(#1):_ Seemingly_ Normal**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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I am about to tell you a story, granted it isn't a very long story, but it's still a story nonetheless, through the likes of which I will be your narrator. To start off lets say it was a fairly nice day in the small town of Amity Park, not dark or stormy like you may imagine it to be. Heck, it wasn't even night. In fact, it was actually around 4 o'clock in the afternoon on Thursday. I'm not entirely certain which Thursday this specific one is, be it the first, second, third, or even forth in the month. In fact, I don't even know what month it is.

But none of that nonsense is really important right now, so let's get back to this tale, hm?

So, picture this: it was roughly four on a nice Thursday afternoon in the seemingly quiet town of Amity Park. Seems normal, right? A perfectly normal town, having normal weather on a normal Thursday at the normal time of 4 p.m. Though I fear that I must regret to inform you of how wrong you would be, my dear reader. For, you see, this town in a state somewhere near Wisconsin is anything but normal.

I suppose I should have suspected as much, because, after all, how could you have known about this seemingly nonexistent town where the impossible happens on a daily basis?

Speaking of the impossible, and improbable, what would you say if I told you that ghosts were real? Well, you'd probably think I'm crazy, and I honestly wouldn't blame you for thinking it. But before you walk away from this seemingly nutty storyteller, let me inform you of this: don't always believe what you see. Even if it's a seemingly invisible boy poking a seemingly normal boy on the shoulder, because believe you me, young traveler, that invisible boy with a skeleton parrot on his should that favors a pirate's accent is in fact real, even though you may not be able to see him. And that raven-haired teen with the icy blue eyes isn't crazy, no matter what anyone else thinks.

He knows. He sees. Can you?

Perhaps I should have mentioned that these two boys are in a metal-coated laboratory in the basement of a not-so-normal house. Maybe I also should have mentioned that these boys… aren't exactly human, one more so than the other.

There's death in the air... can you smell it?

Which is more human: the pirate or the raven-haired boy? Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that you better not call the boy with the dark hair crazy. Or he may blast you with a questionable silver device that shoots a green substance rumored to be ectoplasm of some sort while he's human. When he's something... else... well...

Oh, are you leaving already? I was just getting to the best part… ah, well. Maybe next time I'll tell you more about the not-so-human boy and some of his misadventures.

Anyways, thanks for the quarter, and remember: be careful where you tred, young adventurer, or you may end up like me. Me, the person who goes from town to town telling stories about a ghost – yes, ghost – boy who lives in the small, seemingly quiet town of Amity Park.

Do you want to hear another story before you cross the street and leave my company and humble cardboard box beneath this tall oak tree? It was a fairly nice day, a Thursday, if memory serves, at around 4 o'clock in the afternoon…

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**Uploaded: 7/8/12, roughly 3:24 a.m.**

Ideas can come at anytime. When they do, embrace them, because they're wonderful.


	2. 2: The Flaming Whispers

**A/N: **Hm... you know, I'm starting to think of this as my own personal 100 one-shot challenge. The list is just numbers upon numbers of endless plot bunnies that these fics are based off of. Oh, well.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or any other related characters.

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**(#2): The Flaming Whispers**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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Honestly, I probably shouldn't have even talked to Danny today. He seemed to be in a bad mood ever since I met him in front of his house so we could walk to Sam's and then all go to school together (hopefully avoiding any ghost-related detours that would most likely end up making us all late).

And it wasn't just one of his 'I stayed up all night tracking down the Box Ghost, and now I'm really tired' moods, it was more like 'I will _destroy you_ if you even _consider _cracking a joke, talking to me, or anything of the sort, today' kind of moods.

So, really, I should've known better. Too bad I only recognized the utter stupidity, and obliviousness, of my actions now.

Today started off so well for me, too.

I had actually managed to finish all of the assigned homework for the night, get close to full night's sleep, and I managed to eat a nice, protein filled breakfast. What could be better than that?

So when I saw a fuming Danny emerge from the Fenton household and stomp down the steps with a tiny figurative storm cloud over his head, zapping lightning every which-way, it hardly registered a blip on my radar thanks to my happy-go-lucky mood. That was the first of my many mistakes that happened this morning. Now that I look back on it, if I realized what was going on sooner, I would have run in the opposite direction as fast as humanly possible.

Anyways, as we started to make our way to Sam's house, I tried to start up some mindless conversation. Not even glancing up from my PDA, I asked, "So, have you played the new version of Doomed yet?"

* * *

_**Danny's P.O.V.**  
_

_"...Danny..."_

The ghost boy's head snapped up faster than the human eye could possibly hope to see as he stopped in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. _It _was back.

_"...I know you can hear me..."_

The little voice inside his head that had been talking to him for over the past week. At first, it was just a whisper in the back of the ghost boy's mind, unnoticed and dismissed before it even began to... corrupt his thoughts.

But then it started to get stronger.

_"...Oh Danny..."_

The voice started to... influence Danny's decisions, make him do things that he wouldn't normally do, like being a jerk to his friends and family and purposefully ignoring his homework. He couldn't even tell anyone about it, because it would just sound absolutely crazy if he told Sam or Tucker that he was hearing _a voice _inside his head. Jazz would send him to the asylum before he could even expla-

Oh no.

_"...See the human, Danny?..."_

The halfa's vision went blurry and he numbly nodded his head.

_"...Attack..."_

* * *

After a few seconds of complete silence, I stopped and turned around to look at Danny. He was about five feet behind me, his fists clenched and absolutely _seething _with a fury for which I had no idea the cause.

"Hey, are you alright dude?"

The hybrid's head snapped up faster than I could comprehend, and before I knew what was happening, he was about two centimeters away from my face. My eyes widened in surprise.

In a dangerously quiet voice, Danny slowly growled, _"Do I seem alright to you?"_

For just a second, I thought I saw Phantom standing in Fenton's place. Only… he didn't look quite… right. His hair was on – fire? – , his skin looked deathly pale, so much so that it was tinted blue, and his eyes were like a snakes': red narrow slits. And him, no, _it_, was glaring straight at me.

And then it was gone.

"…Was your hair just on _fire?"_

Anyways, it seems that we've caught up to the present.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate running? Well I really hate running for my life. And I really, _really _hate running for my life from one of my only two best friends when he looked like he was about to murder me. Painfully.

Obviously, something was wrong with the half-breed. And I wasn't going to figure it out by just continuing to record this audio diary when I could be running faster.

So, I guess my main objective currently is to stay alive. Tucker, out.

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**Uploaded: 7/10/2012, about 9:32 p.m.**

Some people should really pay more attention to the people and things around them.


	3. 3: RemEmber

**A/N:** Alright so this is an AU version of '_Fanning The Flames_' with no dialogue, all in first person pov. Let's get this one-shot train started, shall we?**  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or any other related characters. The lyrics are from (remove the spaces) _lyrics mode . com_.

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**(#3): RemEmber**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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Ember, Ember, Ember, Ember, _Ember_. I'm seriously getting sick and tired of hearing that girl's name!

I mean, really, she just pops up overnight and suddenly everyone is falling head over heels for that diva, flaming – don't ask – blue hair and all. She seems like she's the biggest thing since MP3s!

_It was, it was September, _

Maybe, just maybe, if she had more than one song then perhaps I would understand why every teenager and - for shame - some adults in town are going googly eyed & drooling over her.

But she doesn't.

So I don't.

The worst part? Recently I've started liking that bubblegum garbage. I didn't even realize it at first; it started out with my body swaying in time with the beat, humming the lyrics absently under my breath, and other small stuff like that.

When I finally noticed what was happening probably was when I started realizing my sudden _tolerance _for her. Instead of glaring outwardly at the outrageous amount of posters plastered all of Casper High, I would merely shrug my shoulders and look away from them, doing my best to forget they were there.

_Wind blow, the dead leaves fall._

When Tucker took out one of his PDAs and played, more often than not signing along as well, her song I would cover my ears and run away (not from the music itself, but Tucker's – sorry buddy – awful singing voice).

So, of course I assumed the culprit to be some kind of black magic.

_To you, I did surrender, _

So, then, a week after I realized that there was something wrong with my brain, I started wearing makeup. MAKE. UP.

I knew that was wrong, that boys didn't wear makeup (at least not eyeliner, blush, eye shadow, or stuff like that), but I couldn't stop myself. I'd steal my sister's eyeliner and layer it onto my eyes in what everyone was calling '_The Ember Swirl'_. Seriously.

You know the saddest part? No one cared that a boy was wearing eyeliner in public. In fact, now I'm pretty sure it's a law, but I'll get to that later.

_Two weeks you didn't call._

Then, about a week after that (I, along with other students, were still wearing eyeliner) even Sam was starting to get into it. _Sam_, the _Samantha Manson _was starting to like a cheesy corporate pop bubblegum one-hit-wonder artist. And I'm pretty sure that the fact that Ember McClain was something resembling a Goth had no part in Sam's sudden like of her.

In short; when she told me her new opinion of Miss Flames for hair I almost fainted. Right there in front of my locker. Now I kind of wish I had.

Oh, and one more thing that was driving me mad? Tucker was playing that accursed song nonstop now. The teachers didn't say anything. They never did anymore; all of the lessons, if they could be called that, mostly consisted of the latest Ember gossip and listening to her song _Remember_.

_Your life goes on without me, _

By that point in time pretty much every student in Casper High had a wardrobe that consisted of Ember t-shirts, Ember pants/shorts/skirts, Ember shoes, and yes, even Ember wigs. Everyone's old clothes were presumably shoved in an old box into a dark corner deep in their closets. I know mine were.

_My life, a losing game._

Then something weird happened. Three days after Sam made her new opinion of Ember known, my ghost sense went off. Right as Ember was doing a drive-by concert on her truck in front of Casper High.

Coincidence? Now I know that was in fact, not the case.

At the time I was just another fan, my black hair whipping to and fro from rocking my head up and down in time with the overly-loud bass, the shock of having my ghost sense go off after – 3 weeks? – and the implications of such burying their way into the back of my mind.

_But you should, you should not doubt me, _

Suddenly, Mr. Lancer was there with a… bullhorn? I can't really remember; my memory of what happen next is very cloudy.

I do remember, however, Ember saying something about a grandpa eating something… a note that I definitely know is _not _in her song, and then a flash of red.

Blood red.

_You will remember my name._

That's it. Whatever happened in those few – seconds, minutes, hours? – are still a mystery to me. No matter how hard I try I can't unscramble the hazy hue of a deep, dark red that fills my head every time I think about that particular moment.

_Ohh Ember, you will remember._

Next thing I know I'm being manhandled by a big burly guy in a S.W.A.T. uniform. Go figure.

Those guys are even worse drivers then my dad, and that's saying something considering he goes about 112 miles an hour down city streets and steers like a drunken driver. Forget about turn signals.

_Ember, one thing remains, _

Anyway, after a nauseating ride full of screaming students and my nails digging into the surprisingly soft leather seats, I, along with Jazz, was chucked out of the tank like vehicle and deposited on my front porch with two very angry parents in brightly colored HAZMAT glaring down at us.

My thoughts? Oh, crap.

_Ohh Ember, so warm and tender, _

After a long talk – more like rant – about how irresponsible we acted or some such nonsense (I don't really remember exactly what they were yelling about, I was too focused on Ember), we were both grounded and sent to our respective rooms for the night.

Too bad we didn't stay there.

_You will remember my name._

About five minutes after me and Jazz slammed our doors, one of Ember's music trucks drove by our block. The effect was instant.

Jazz opened her window before grabbing a grappling hook – where she got that I have no idea – and swung out of her room, out into the cool night air of the street below before racing after the truck.

I, on the other hand, turned into Phantom. Or, actually, I think tried would be the more appropriate term.

_Your heart, your heart abandoned, _

As soon as the familiar ring of blue light sparked around my waist I heard a whisper.

_No._

That's it; just a simple, one syllable word.

I didn't question my sanity, or wonder why there was a voice other than my own in my head, I just obeyed. The smooth, silky voice was just too hard to refuse, so I instantly let the transformation ring fizzle out and instead opened my own window and slid down the gutter next to it and raced down the street after the truck and Jazz.

_You're wrong, now bare the shame._

It took a little longer than I would've liked to race down the many streets to the place where Ember was playing live, but every time I thought about turning ghost and flying, an invisible boot crushed the thought as quickly as it appeared.

The crowd outside the place was gigantic; it was like every teenager in the whole town was there, and now that I think about it… they probably were.

_Like dead trees, in cold December, _

I pushed my way through the crowd, phasing through a few unsuspecting teens, and managed to get inside the large building just as Ember said hello to Amity Park.

_Nothing but ashes remain._

An alarm bell that had silently been ringing in the back of my head for the past three weeks finally made itself heard.

Something was wrong here.

Suddenly things started clicking into place faster than I ever thought possible.

Ember was a ghost. Ember was a _ghost._

But it was too late; Ember had already started to sing her only song. On live T.V. That broadcasted around the world.

_Crap_.

Trying to find a place to morph was useless, there were too many people around and I was stuck in the middle of a mob of kids.

Obviously, I could only do one more-

_Ohh Ember, you will remember._

Chanting erupted from every mouth in the auditorium, I'm ashamed to say that mine was included.

Ember, Ember, Ember, Ember, _Ember_…

_Ember, one thing remains, _

Ember's fiery ponytail flared, getting larger and hotter the more we chanted. My thoughts were slipping though my fingers like water, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't hold on to more than two thoughts.

Two very important thoughts.

_Ohh Ember, so warm and tender, _

I am Phantom.

_You will remember my name._

Ember must fall.

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**_~Time Lapse~_**

* * *

Running, always running.

I can't let anyone get me. They'll take me to _her _if they do.

_Ohh Ember, you will remember._

Everyone else is a mindless drone now, Queen Ember has been ruling the human and Ghost worlds for over two years.

Everyone, except me.

Sometimes, when I'm right on the edge of falling asleep I get flashes; I think they're memories, but I can't be certain.

_Purple eyes. Red hat. Ginger hair._

Occasionally I wonder what my life was like before the Revolution; it couldn't have always been full of running from red eyed soldiers sent by the Queen, right?

I just get this weird feeling about these - memories? - they feel like a gateway... and if I could just unlock the door maybe I would finally understand how everything went so horribly wrong two years ago.

_Ember, one thing remains,_

While everyone else may be a slave to her Majesty's cause, I am not. I never will be. My eyes burn an even brighter acid green just thinking about it._  
_

_Black hair. Blue eyes._

I have some thing that no one in either dimension has anymore. A name.

I am Phantom.

Not just some number assigned by the Counting Society Of & For All Individuals.

_Ohh Ember, so warm and tender,_

I also have a mission.

_Green. Door. White hair. Green eyes._

Ember must fall.

_You will remember my name._

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**Uploaded: 8/3/2012, about 9:35 a.m.**

Every will has a breaking point, all anyone can do about it is try to make a strong facade to cover it up.


	4. 4: I Stand Off With My Worst Enemy

**A/N: **Since I've been kind of off the map for so long I decided to give you guys another one-shot today. It's a one-on-one battle between Danny and his fiercest, most vile enemy. It's a little short but oh well, I did write all of it in about five minutes. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or any other related characters.

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**I Standoff With My Worst Enemy At ****Breakfast **

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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I stood there, sizing up my enemy. I will admit; he was quite a fearsome adversary.

He was small, true, but he was disgusting in every meaning of the word. So foul & vile, in fact, that his existence must be against the laws of nature – or at least illegal in all 50 states (and maybe Canada).

Seriously though, I can't believe he was in front of me now, at the most sacred time of the day; breakfast.

I had expected eggs, pancakes, maybe even some oatmeal. But not this, this _thing._

In fact, I probably would've been happier eating some weird, glowing, and probably radioactive waffles then having a standoff with him today.

In short; he was the last thing I expected to see this morning.

He seemed like he was almost mocking me with his expressionless face, taunting me into battle. But I didn't want to even get near him. Not today.

I almost felt bad for him; he looked that terrible, but I restrained my feelings and pushed them into the back of my mind. This was serious.

His burned skin no doubt tasting just as bad as it looked, no matter how much fatty butter or jam was rubbed on top to hide it's blackness. The acrid smell that came off of him made me want to puke.

His shape resembled a human being, but in a sick parody of the anatomy. Simply revolting.

I wanted to throw it him the garbage right now and take out the trash, but I simply couldn't. I was simply just too hungry.

I thought all of this as I stared – or, more appropriately, _glared _– at my number one enemy; toast.

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**Uploaded: 8/3/2012, around 12:03 p.m.**

At least it didn't fall off the table and land butter side down. That would've been quite a mess.


	5. 5: Whelp

**A/N: **Short, fluffy (sorta), and cute. What more could you ask for? So let's start the night off by lightening the mood with a DXP little fluffiness, shall we?

**IMPORTANT: **In this fic Danny _Fenton _shall be referred to as Danny, Danny _Phantom _shall be referred to as Phantom, and Skulker shall be referred to as, well, Skulker. This possible two-shot (though probably just a one-shot) is also in Phantom's pov.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or any other related characters.

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**(#5): The Chronicles of the Ghost Whelp Part I:**

**_The human, the ghost, & the automaton._**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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"_Whelp."_

I sighed. "Stop it; you're going to hurt yourself."

My other half, Danny Fenton, was literally rolling on the floor laughing at the moment. Seriously, I don't get what's so funny.

"But that weird robot thing-"

I broke in, rolling my electric green eyes, "Skulker,"

"Right, Skulker," He chuckled some more, "Called you a _whelp. _I mean, really, who says _that_ anymore?"

I laughed a little in spite of myself. "Well, he is a ghost you know. Who knows how old he could be."

"But that's not the _point, _he should still know better, this is the twenty first century!" Danny paused before sticking out his lower lip slightly, pouting, "We have phones, and cars, and lots of other technology that Tucker would go ballistic over!"

I sighed again. Did I really act like this sometimes?

...Stupid dream-catcher...

Upon receiving no response Danny pulled the Thermos out from behind his back. "You know... I always could just let him out and have you deal with him, _dude._"

Ugh. I also don't understand why that version of me insisted on pretending to use that fake surfer accent...

But I could worry about that later, because Danny has the Thermos and I did _not _want to have to wrestle that stupid automaton back into it if he let it out.

"What? Too scared to fight me, Phantom?" Danny's blue eyes twinkled tauntingly.

I smiled maliciously, my green eyes flashing. This was going to be fun. "Me? Please." I bared my fangs at him. "I was just getting ready, _human._"

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**Uploaded: 8/8/2012, around 11:14 p.m.**

I may continue this... probably not though. I think it's best if you think up what'll happen with that twisted imagination of yours... Danny's in for it now...


	6. 6: Gothic Wonderland

**A/N: **This started out as a 100 word drabble... but obviously that didn't really work out well. I don't understand why I love the thought of Danny in a dress so much, but I do. So much. Anyways, enjoy!

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**(#6): Midnight in the Gothic Wonderland**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or Alice in Wonderland (which is where I got this idea).

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

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Danny stood, still as a stone gargoyle from shock, staring at his best friend. Or, more appropriately, his soon to be blasted into a smoking crater and then left there to die of starvation, best friend.

"You did WHAT?"

Tucker shuffled his feet nervously; obviously uncomfortable with how the situation he was currently in was turning out. "You have a date with Delilah at 7 o'clock; don't be late!"

And with that rushed sentence, the red-hatted boy was gone, leaving a trail of dust behind him as he sped off the take shelter in a bomb-proof room to avoid the wraith of his angry, green eyed friend.

* * *

"I can't believe I agreed to this…" Danny muttered, feeling completely exposed and embarrassed in the glass dome of the gorilla habitat, a bright red blush highlighting his cheeks in the semi-darkness of twilight.

He was currently sitting at a small table in the middle of the former Sampson's habitat. A dark purple cloth adorned the stained black oak table and a complete sterling silver tea set that sparkled like crystal in the dim light was placed on top of it. Numerous drops of condensation rolled down the teapot's sparkling surface and landed in the cloth with a small _plop_.Two small candles were also alighted on the table, casting a warm yellow glow on the two occupants currently sitting at it.

Danny was sitting in a black chair that was probably meant for a toddler; it was only about a foot high and only came about halfway up his back.

But probably the worst part about the whole thing was the outfits the two occupants were wearing.

Delilah (currently Sampson) was wearing an extra-large black tuxedo with a purple tie and a silver rose pinned onto his pocket. (Tucker figured that pants would be over kill and Sam thought that forcing pants onto an animal was animal cruelty.) A tall black top hat was also balanced on her large head.

Danny was wearing an ornate dark purple dress with black lacey trim that went down to his ankles, complete with a black corset that laced up his front (apparently he didn't have a perfect hourglass figure like girls were supposed to have in a tea party setting). The dress was short sleeved with the sleeves frilling out into an extravagant pattern of lace around his shoulders, a collar of – surprise – black lace that wrapped around his neck and a ruffled dark purple bottom with black trim at the bottom.

Currently, Danny was holding a small, white porcelain teacup in his hand while blowing his long bangs out of his crystal blue eyes, annoyance sparkling within them but still blushing fiercely, something unidentifiable also accompanying the annoyance in his blue orbs.

The backdrop looked like something straight out of the underworld itself, especially as it got darker; the trees twisted into contorted versions of snakes and demons, their roots gnarling and their branches drying out and snapping, leaves falling to the ground and dying. The shadows around the area cast demonic reflections in front of the two beings, their shadowy figures dancing in the darkness to some unseen song of screeching violins and the horror filled screams of crackling hell-fire; like a broken version of entertainment.

The sun finally disappeared behind the horizon and the moon rose, showing its bright white glow that bounced off of the glass dome, making it glow.

Danny blinked, now in complete darkness save for the ethereal darkness of the stars and moon, but even those eventually got covered in the wispy forms of clouds, blotting out their white glow. Eventually this all ended up to leaving the silhouette of a black haired girl and a bulky suited man in the darkness, surrounded by dancing ghouls and dead trees.

There were only two words to describe the scene; for it was a true Gothic Wonderland.

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**Uploaded: 8/14/2012, around 12:10 a.m.**

Oh, if you're wondering about the whole _as still as a stone gargoyle_ simile, the reason for that is I really don't like the expression _as still as a statue_.


	7. 7: Little Frootloops

**A/N:** Again, I tried to make this a 100 word drabble, but I couldn't do it. I seriously respect anyone out there that can get all of their ideas down in a measly one hundred words, because it's hard.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom, I only own myself and these ideas.

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**(#7): Little Frootloops**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

* * *

"Knock it off," Danny groaned, obviously annoyed at my antics.

I just grinned smugly, mischief sparkling in my eyes, "No, _frootloop, _I don't think I will."

The cereal in question put a palm to his face, sliding it slowly down his face. "Why did I even let you in?" He asked, exasperated, the question slightly muffled due to his hand that was still covering his mouth.

I scoffed, blowing some of my long bangs out of my eyes before I said simply, "Why? Well that answer is simple, Phantom; you let me in because I'm the writer."

"Don't remind me, Blue…"

I grinned triumphantly at his admission, holding up a long green dress, "Now go put this on; we've got a busy schedule today and you know how impatient Pinkie Pie is…"

* * *

**Uploaded: 8/14/2012, around 11:10 a.m.**

No, that comment about Pinkie Pie was not random; I'm currently writing a DP/MLP crossover revolving around her twitching tail and Danny.


	8. 8: Cat Days

**A/N: **Man, I'm on a roll today aren't I? I do however give up on 100 word drabbles (for now anyway *evil laugh*). Enjoy the fluffiness (in a different meaning of the word)!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom or the song at the bottom of the page.

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**(#8): Cat Days: Through the Eyes of Plasmius**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: Blue Eyed Phantom

* * *

"Meow,"

Danny's eyebrow twitched; first a twisted tea party and now this. Would this day ever end?

Sighing while pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny slowly asked, "Tucker, what is that?"

The techno geek in question was currently holding a white cat with red eyes (Danny thought it looked kind of creepy) while slowly edging down the dark alleyway they were both standing in – coincidently the place where said geek cornered Danny after school – away from the hybrid and toward the open street, and witnesses. "This is a cat..." Tucker began warily, drifting off at the end.

"Tucker, I know it's a cat, but _why _do you have it?"

"Uh, well… you see…" Tucker suddenly threw the cat at Danny, which the boy caught out of instinct, his green eyes going wide in surprise.

After watching Tucker vanish around the corner of the alleyway, his green gaze illuminating the penetrating darkness, he glanced down at the cat's collar with a shake of his head, white hair falling into his glowing eyes.

Danny chuckled, his annoyance melting away as he absently began to pet the cat's head with a gloved hand, "Plasmius, huh?" The cat nuzzled closer to the hybrid while curled up in his arms, obviously liking the cold emanating from his core, "Well, Plasmius, I think the ironic justice here is delicious, don't you?"

The cat simply meowed in reply, blinking its large red eyes up at his new master.

* * *

**Uploaded: 8/14/2012, around 3:24** **p.m.**

Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sad kitty, purr, purr, purr.


	9. 9: Burger Flippin'

**A/N: **As you might have noticed, I changed my pen name. It is no longer Blue Eyed Phantom, instead I shall now be called The Rose Blue Prince! ...Or something. And in case you're wondering (for those of you that have never been to my profile) I am a girl. Just to clear that up.

Alright so enjoy this little one-shot that's been rotting away in my documents folder for the past week (why I didn't post it then, you might ask? Well, it was only three sentences long. I fixed it, obviously).

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom.

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**(#9): Burger Flippin'**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: The Rose Blue Prince (formerly known as Blue Eyed Phantom)

* * *

"Fenton, stop shivering and get back to work!"

Danny sighed in response to the boisterous voice and did what he was told, his teeth still chattering as his body was racked with chills, if somewhat reluctantly. His manager was scarier than some of the ghosts he fought when he was mad… "Y-Yes, s-sir."

The raven haired boy went back to flipping greasy burgers on the Nasty Burger's grill. Sometimes he wondered why he put on the stupid chefs apron every morning and drove his 16 year old self to his minimum-wage job, but it could be worse… right?

Drops of hot grease splattered onto his once-white apron as he contemplated his former thought, blue eyes gazing out the small window above his work space, the light rain falling outside hypnotizing him with its rhythmic beats.

Another blue stream of mist made its way out of the teen's mouth, waking him from his trance, as he held his slender shivering frame. His stained white chef's hat falling to the floor in the process, a cloud of small dust and debris rising from the floor to float momentarily in the air before they landed on his hat. The boy mused why he even had the hat; all he did was flip patties in the back of a cheap burger place.

As Danny bent down to grab the hat, he wiped his damp forehead on the back of his hand. A hot and dusty workplace mixed with his own body's hypothermic-like ghost sense (which would not stop going off) didn't make a great combination.

The same commanding voice yelled at the hybrid yet again as he placed his hat on his head after wiping the dust off of it, and straightened out. "Fenton!"

Wincing as he wiped his hand on his grease stained apron Danny absently wondered if the guy could see through walls; he always seemed to catch him when he took what the guy called "a break". Like bending down to pick up an old hat could be called a bre-

"FENTON!"

"Geesh, it's like he can read my thoughts of something…" the Fenton in question muttered, annoyed that he got yelled at when he didn't do anything wrong, and put more patties on the grill.

He briefly wondered why the Health Department hadn't shut this place down; there was a giant whole in the side of the building that had been there for two years for goodness sake, not to mention the health hazards of the food itself.

Danny was about to place a freshly (he used that word loosely) made burger on a plate to be sent out to the front when his ghost sense went off again, causing the plate to slip out of his grasp and fall to the floor, breaking into a million tiny pieces. The burger made a wet _squish_ sound when it hit the dirty brown floor, spoiled and gross, making ketchup and mustard, along with a few pickles, litter the chipped tiled floor.

Danny looked up to see the tomato-red face of his boss; a burly Hispanic man in his late thirties with a giant black mustache, his large, muscled frame stuffed into a suit with a nametag that, surprisingly, only said MANAGER in all caps. How did he get here so fast...? It was almost inhumanly fast for a man of his size.

But none of that was of the utmost importance right now considering that the glare he was sending the ghost boy made it look like he was about to tear the ghost boy in half and light him on fire to destroy the evidence.

Oh, crap.

* * *

_**Danny's P.O.V.**_

The door to my former workplace slammed shut behind me, the wood and glass shaking a little from the force of it. I winced away as I heard my former boss' version of a 'have a nice life', "AND STAY OUT, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF TEEN GARBAGE!"

Seriously? All I did was drop _one burger _and break a plate. I would've paid for it. In fact, I would gladly paid for it instead of get fired. Again.

I sighed despairingly, little drops of rain rolling down my long black hair and splashing onto the asphalt below as I stared at my shoes, hands buried deep in my jean pockets.

And I was doing so well too; it had been my second job this month and I had manged to keep it for a whole two weeks - a new personal best.

I tried to convince myself that it was only a minimum-wage job and I could do better, heck, I did better every day; I fought _ghosts_. But it didn't really work.

I silently fingered the measly ten dollars in my pocket. I really hated having to steal food; mom and dad never made anything edible anymore, it was always contaminated with ecto-radiation or something of the sort. I _definitely _didn't need more of that in my system.

Maybe I could go dumpster diving for scraps again so I wouldn't have to steal anything (both things Jazz, now at college, wasn't proud of). But it was better than stealing, right?

Again, my weak attempt at making myself feel better didn't really work. I slipped in and out of restaurants and grocery stores almost every other day, just to get the bare minimum my body needed, because my own parents couldn't find the time to feed me.

It was sad really; what sixteen year old kid has to steal food, fight ghosts on a daily basis, _be _a ghost on a daily basis, barely manage to get D-'s in school, and be completely and utterly alone in the sense of morals, responsibility, and species? What made it even worse was that that practically described his life at the present.

All of the former didn't even take into account the _incident _that happened two years ago. No, all of that didn't even begin to compare _him. _I shuddered involuntarily, and not because of my ghost sense or the chill of the rain that was quickly soaking through my clothes.

But it could be worse... right? Again, I was uncertain and saddened; even more so than I was five minutes ago.

I hung my head as I walked away from the – still – half destroyed building (man, they really needed to get that fixed) as my ghost sense went off. Again.

I blinked before registering what that meant.

I can honestly say that I've never wanted to strangle an inanimate thing like my ghost sense so much before. Ever. I couldn't even get something to eat before the stupid ghost decided to butt it's way into my business?

No, I was never that lucky. And besides; I had a job to do.

Pushing my former depressing thoughts behind me, I began the one thing that I looked forward to every day; being a ghost (all of the complications of such I can't even begin to describe with mere English words).

My eyes flashed a bright acid green as I pulled my core forward after a quick scan of the half empty parking lot and relished in the rush of the cold, sweet energy of my ghost half before running down the lot, jumping on top of a car, and flying away to do the one job I knew would always be my responsibility, no matter how messed up things got for me.

* * *

**Uploaded: 8/19/2012 around 11:05 a.m.**

Eh, putting up with that jerk of a manager probably wasn't worth a $7.25 wage anyway.


	10. 10: Cat Days II

**A/N: **This is in no way related to "Cat Days", I just thought the title was fitting. (This actually may be closer to a one-shot, but oh well.) Heh, I think cats are under appreciated, just like Violas. One day, oh, _one day, _we'll team up and take over the word in a storm of melodic notes and fur. _Just you wait violins, the end is coming for you. _BWAHAHA!

Eh hem... uh, enjoy? *Runs away*

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom. I do own myself, though... at least, I would hope I do...

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**(#10): Cat Days II: Through the Eyes of Phantom**

A Danny Phantom FanFiction By: The Blue Rose Prince

* * *

You know, I had not imagined my Friday night turning out like this. I had, and I admit, foolishly, thought that I was just going to go home after school, try (not really) to get my homework done, and then either stuff the Box Ghost into the Thermos and punch him a few times, or go hang out with Tucker and play the new version of Doomed.

I couldn't have been more wrong. In fact, I would've loved being hunted down like an animal by Skulker - knives, guns, and all - than be in my current situation.

I cuddled up into the expensive chair I was sitting in, purring at its softness, my eyes glazing over slightly, before feverishly shaking my head and snapping out of it.

My tail twitched silently as I recalled how everything went so horribly wrong earlier this evening.

* * *

_**~FLASHBACK~**_

* * *

I was walking home from school by myself (Sam was at home sick, Tucker was at the new arcade with Mikey, Jazz was touring the country's finest colleges with mom so neither of them could pick me up and drive me home, and I can honestly say that I have no idea what my dad was doing. I don't really think I want to know [it probably involved a new painful ectoweapon and fudge]).

My torn purple backpack's straps were cutting into my shoulders from he combined weight of two Fenton Thermoses, my English book and folder along with my Math book, a small ecto-gun (I'm still surprised I can manage to sneak it into school everyday), and the numerous pencils, pens, and other miscellaneous items and papers strewn throughout the worn purple interior.

I vaguely wondered if I should get a new one, but I dismissed the thought quickly as I continued walking down a relatively quiet street, my feet landing lightly on the dirty, chipped concrete, moving quickly down the street.

In short; the bag was heavy but I didn't really care because I wanted to get home and enjoy my weekend. If the ghosts would let me, that is. I shivered reflexively at the thought of the ghosts, my core flashing with a cold pulse of anger at their very mention. I didn't like that they were invading _my home. _Not at all.

I felt my eyes flash green at the reminder of the continued invasion of my space by other ghosts. They needed to _stay out. _I snarled softly under my breath, my pace quickening slightly.

Suddenly my eyes melted back into blue, my hair covering them momentarily as I shook my head, trying to clear those previous thoughts from it.

"Calm down, Fenton," I muttered, still walking down the street. I could see the top of the Ops Center from where I was, the metal surface reflecting the harsh afternoon sunlight.

Suddenly, my ear twitched, and I spun around on my heel (supernatural hearing kind of makes a guy combat-ready), only to be met with a rag in my face.

Uh oh, that can't be good.

Instantly, my hands shot up and grabbed at the cloth that was beginning to suffocate me.

I now understand why all of those old kidnapping movies work, when you're scared or full of adrenaline, your heart speeds up and you tend to inhale more oxygen than normal.

My eyes widened, pretty much the only part of my face that wasn't covered in the cloth, as both my heart and my dormant core thundered in my ears.

I clawed at the rag, trying to get it off, but it was no use; the drugs were already taking effect. My vision blurred at the edges, little black parasites eating away at the light, unfocusing and clouding over. My limbs were growing heavy, my clawing hands slowing into movements that looked like they were being played in slow-motion.

As if I were encased in jello, I fell backwards, landing on my back on the sidewalk, and successfully getting away from my attacker for the moment. I glanced up at the person and saw the last person I wanted seemingly randomly attacking me today and saw the vague, blurry outline of Vlad Plasmius.

I groaned, raven hair covering my dull blue eyes as they fluttered closed, leaving me in a dark, hazy version of reality.

Before my body fully surrendered to the unknown drugs that I had inhaled, I felt who I assumed to be Vlad pick me up bridle style (weird) and lift off, most likely headed towards my newest prison.

I could never have a normal day, could I?

* * *

"Unn..." I groaned softly, my head lolling slightly to the side, making my cheek lay against a hard, cold surface. Unable to make any other noise or movement in my current state, I just lied there as my clouded thoughts slowly cleared. I licked my parched lips absently, feeling the rough surface of my tongue slide across dry lips.

I felt terrible. My head was pounding, my wrists and ankles with burning, and my nose felt... weird. I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to imagine what that strange feeling could mean.

I tried sitting up, but didn't get very far; something was getting in my way, and it made my wrists hurt to move them...

My nose twitched and I sneezed, something long and soft brushing up lightly against my face. Now I know I was still half-asleep and not very aware, but that was a little strange to me, even in when my mind was still full of sleepy fog. I groaned softly again, the hard surface below me making my body tense and uncomfortable.

Once again, I tried to move one of my hands, this time to scratch my nose, but the same hard material dug into the soft skin when I tried. I felt a small stream of cold liquid begin to drizzle out of the irritated area, collecting in the palm of my hand. I felt the cold liquid spark as it began to form a shallow pool in the palm of my hand.

My wrists were now burning and stinging with cold (not a good combination), my head was still throbbing, and my nose itched.

Slowly I forced my eyes open, only to be met with a blurry double vision. I raised my eyebrows slightly, four split views of what I assumed to be a lamp hung above me, small popping noises coming from the bulb and letting loose a shower of orange sparks every few seconds.

Okay. Something was definitely wrong here, I just couldn't put my finger on what it was.

Hadn't I just been walking home from school?

I blinked a few times, satisfied when my vision was seeing only one of everything. I was surrounded by various types of lab equipment, the only light in the room coming from the small beeping lights placed on various parts of the machinery. I was currently laying on a metal lab table with about one thousands needles looming over my body.

Alright, I'm awake now.

Immediately I started struggling in my bonds, ignoring the pain and weariness in favor of escape. The cold metal dug into my wrists and ankles as I tried to break them, covering skin and metal alike in green blood.

Wait, green?

I glanced down and noticed for the fist time that I was in ghost form. Well, perfect, I could just phase through the-

And then the earlier day's events crashed into me with the force of an out of control, speeding truck on an icy winter highway.

I started shaking, lab tables plus fruit loops that had taken up kidnapping as an apparent side hobby never equaled anything good for the supposed victim, aka me.

"Ah, Daniel, I see you're finally awake."

My head snapped in the direction of the too-familiar voice so fast I could've sworn I heard a small crack. I stared at Vlad, and then at the needles looming dangerously above me. How could I've missed _those, _even with the four-way vision?

Vlad, the sadistic bastard, laughed smugly at my action before slyly telling me, "Oh, don't worry my boy, you've already visited the doctor today. You were quite the honorable patient," Plasmius chuckled softly, "You slept like a _kitten _through it all, too."

I twitched, already thinking of all the horrible things he could've done to me. Implanted a mind controlling chip, erased my memories, removing my human half, creating _him..._

I will admit that at this point I started hyperventilating. My long white bangs fell into my eyes as my core pounded frantically in the center of my chest. Vlad simply raised an eyebrow at my antics.

Then he did something I didn't expect, he pushed a button on a the thing I had assumed to be an ugly watch around his wrist that unlocked my wrist and ankle bonds and simply walking away, his shoes tapping infuriatingly on the lab floor as he did.

I jumped off the table, stumbling a bit as I landed on the floor, but managing to catch myself before I fell to my knees, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"

Watching his ghost form nonchalantly float up the lab stairs, not even glancing back, I shakily walked after him. For some reason I just couldn't seem to get coordinated enough to walk without faltering.

After eventually making it to the stairs that Vlad had disappeared up, I stopped, glaring up the ridiculously long flight of steps. Seriously, who need that many stairs?

I grasped the railing tightly; I'd rather not fall down the stairs today along with everything else that had happened. Glancing back at my enemy's lab one last time, I spit on the perfectly polished marble floor, the cold ectoplasm burning a small hole into it. I smiled as I turned back to the stairs, beginning the horrendous task of scaling them.

My blood-stained palm left green marks on the cool metal rail. White boots made hallow, echoing thuds as I trudged up the steps, vaguely wondering what Vlad had done to me on that examination table to make me feel so off-kilter.

White hair swung into my eyes when I finally reached the last step, stepping gratefully onto the plush carpet that covered Vlad's "Private Study". Pushing my long locks out of my eyes, I glanced warily around the obnoxiously decorated room. Talk about flaunting your wealth...

Solid gold busts, twenty foot tall bookcases packed to the brim with expensive looking hardbacks, a really ugly painting that was hung over the now closing fireplace, sealing off the entrance to the secret lab, and hand-carved wooden furniture in the corner complete with gold-threaded cushions. And that first glance didn't even begin to grasp all of the intricate carvings along the walls and a ten foot, silver framed mirror that hung next to the fireplace.

Yeah, he's definitely a modest billionaire.

I rolled my sparking green eyes and turned toward the mirror, deciding to do a little "self check" and see if I looked as horrible as I felt.

When I locked my gaze with the person in the mirror, my eyes widened in shock, and I'm pretty sure that if I'd been holding something, it would've shattered into a million pieces upon contact with the floor right about now.

I stared at the person, _myself, _in the mirror, completely flabbergasted. Slowly, shakily, I raised my hand up to touch the glass, and the other me did the same, our gloved hands meeting at the thin, cool glass barrier that separated us.

I screamed.

* * *

**~Vlad**

Vlad had been rummaging around in one of his kitchen's fridges, looking for some milk to go with his herbal tea, wondering what Daniel being so weird about. He obviously had to have known this was coming... it happened to every powerful and special ghost eventually.

The billionaire cracked a small smile when he thought about his own experience when he had been younger, envisioning his shocked expression in his mind's eyes as he'd stared into his bathroom mirror, when he heard it. A scream.

Now back in reality, the billionaire banished the memory. Vlad shut the fridge, pinching the bridge of his nose and deciding that he'd just have to make some more tea later.

He let the dark rings slide across him, a supernatural heat washing over him as they transformed him into Plasmius. Sighing once the morph was complete, he flew toward his private study, shaking his head in a dull form of amusement. He supposed that that would be the Little Badger's reaction to seeing what had happened to him.

Air whooshed by him as he flew toward the toward Daniel, phasing through some of the walls of his numerous rooms as he did so.

When he finally reached his study, he was vaguely amused at the sight of Danny backed up against the wall across from the mirror, eyes never leaving the reflecting depths.

Vlad sighed before saying with an underlying tone of amusement, "Scared of your own reflection, Little Badger?"

The ghost boy froze, standing rigid against the wall in an almost inhuman-like manner before turning his green gaze to Plasmius with an agonizing slowness. Danny blinked once, cocking his head slightly to side as he stared at the older ghost's red eyes.

Then, suddenly, he was right in front of Vlad, not even two inches away from his face, new fangs bearing menacingly as he hissed with animal like ferocity, green eyes melting into slits.

_"You, you did this to me, didn't you?"_

Vlad took an involuntary step back as the white haired ghost boy's razor-sharp fangs flashed threateningly before saying, "As much I as regret to say it, no, I didn't turn you into a cat, Daniel." Vlad paused before muttering, "Though it would've been quite an amusing experiment..."

Danny didn't back down, green cat-like eyes narrowing dangerously as he hissed, "Yeah, _sure, _Vlad," One of Phantom's ears twitched, "Like I believe that."

There was a flash of something by Danny's hands and before either hybrid knew it, deadly looking venom filled claws hovered dangerously over Vlad's throat, the two less then a hair's width apart.

"Now..." Danny started casually before a feral look crept into his eyes and he said, "Tell me the _truth._"

* * *

**~Danny**

To be completely honest, I didn't exactly know what was going on; one second I was staring at myself in the mirror - complete with furry, light gray cat ears where my old, human ears had previously been and a gray tail to match - and then I was trapped behind a murky wall, unable to do anything as it looked like I was about to kill Vlad.

I distantly heard Vlad sigh before he said, "I am."

I felt my new claws elongate the slightest bit, now touching the soft skin of Plasmius' neck, "Cut the lies Plasmius, _what did you do to me?_"

Vlad swallowed, an emotion I had never seen before on him flashing across his features before he regained his natural calm and collected demeanor. "Danny, I am. I didn't do this too you; your Phantom side did."

My mind froze, not so much at the apparent fact that my ghost half had turned me into this cat thing, but at the knowledge of Vlad calling me Danny instead of Daniel.

_"Explain." _I felt the words ripped from my throat, a feral snarl that definitey did not belong to me flowing through that one word. My claws still touching the delicate skin of my enemy's throat.

Vlad sighed before beginning what seemed to be a long explanation, "You see, Little Badger, a few ghosts have a connection to some kind of animal. Mine personally was a bat," I chuckled a little behind the barrier, that figures, "Yours is apparently a cat. The ghost's energy spikes enormously when they unlock their animal side over the course of around a week, and if it's not monitored, the ghost could dissolve into nothing from the buildup."

I gulped. Was that why Vlad kidnapped me? To _save _me?

He continued, "The ghost gains new powers that connect to the animal they have, making them even more powerful... but before they fully unlock it they act very territorial, feral, and are even considered a threat to high level ghosts like me. In short; it's a very dangerous ability." He paused, seeming to think something over momentarily, "I had assumed you would unlock your animalistic side eventually, you are quite special, after all."

I blinked, my phantom cheeks blushing slightly. Everything made so much _sense _now... he really had been trying to help me...

Mixed emotions raged in my head as I tried to grasp _why _he would even care about me that much...

The wall I had been trapped behind suddenly fell out from under me, and I crumpled to the floor on my hands and knees. I groaned, my eyes flashing a very _human _blue before switching back to toxic green.

I felt my claws retract back into my fingers, the alien feeling making slight goosebumps appear on my arms underneath my jumpsuit, as I panted slightly.

Glancing up, I saw Vlad crack a small, mischievous smile before saying, "Glad to have you back, Little _Kitten_," Ah, great. Not _another _pet name... wait... how did he know I wasn't really-? "But I'm afraid there is one other... small problem."

I raised an eyebrow, not at all amused.

He simply picked me up - for the second time today, I might add - and dragged me toward the window.

There looked to be a whole _army _of white suits just outside the window, surrounding the mansion with trucks and men, guns at the ready.

Oh, no...

"You see... your immense spike in ectoenergy alerted those morons in white when I, ah, brought you here," I glared weakly at him for that, "And it seems that they've followed you here to my house... and have no intention of letting you leave."

* * *

_**~END FLASHBACK~**_

* * *

We'd been locked up in his mansion for six hours now and I was already going crazy. The GiW didn't give any indication of them packing up and leaving anytime soon, and awkwardly sitting in Vlad's "Family Room" (the room just made the whole thing even more awkward) with nothing to do but sheath and unsheathe my claws was seriously boring.

And I really wished Vlad would stop staring at me, it made my new ears twitch as I wrapped my new tail around my waist. When would he figure out that he didn't have the power of mental suggestion and stop looking like he was mentally saying; _"Daniel, you will be my evil apprentice,"_

I curled up even more into the soft chair I was sitting in, the size of it making it seem like it was fit for a king, a light blush starting to heat up my cold cheeks as my white hair fell into my eyes once again. He was seriously starting to creep me out.

I may owe Vlad for saving my life, but oh...

I was _so _going to kill him when we got out of this mess...

* * *

**Uploaded: 9/5/2012 around 10:37 p.m.**

**EDIT: **I think there's been some confusion as to _what _exactly Danny turned into. He is NOT a full cat, nor does he have a cat body. All he has is furry cat ears that are where his human ears were, fangs, claws, and a furry tail. Does that make sense?

Hm. I think this turned out quite well (and long)... Purr, Danny, purr...


End file.
